Phoenix Rising
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: An epilogue to the season 1 two-part episode Deadfall. All is over, but the emotional wounds still remain. Both Lew and Joe regret things they said and did.


**Mannix**

**Phoenix Rising**

**By Lucky_Ladybug**

**Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! This is an epilogue-type thing for the season 1 two-parter **_**Deadfall**_**. It probably won't make much sense if you haven't seen that.**

He was lying awake in his room, staring at the darkened ceiling. Really, he had been there for he didn't know how long, turning the past few days over and over in his mind. No matter how much he thought about them, the topics never seemed to tire and let him be; there was always something more to think about in connection with them.

And they always came back to several specific points.

"_It was Restin all along."_

Fred Restin, trusted security guard and loyal friend, killed in a car accident.

Only he hadn't been killed then and he wasn't loyal.

It had been the first time Llewellyn—Lew—Wickersham had been faced with a betrayal at Intertect. Under ordinary circumstances it would have been bad enough. But he had been under the influence of steroids to treat an infection and had been completely unable to deal with the idea of the traitor's identity at all.

He had believed in Restin, had trusted him, had thought he was a friend! . . .

Amid the increasing evidence against both Restin's loyalty and his demise, Lew had focused on someone else who must be, in his tortured mind, the real traitor. Now that person, Dr. Andrew Josephus, had been put on suspension, at least partially because of Lew's investigation. Lew wasn't even sure the man would want to go back to work for his old boss now that he had been cleared.

He felt terrible about his part in causing so much heartache for an innocent party. Even when innocents were hurt in some way by the investigations, in the end they were usually able to go back to their old lives. Lew intended to speak with Dr. Josephus's boss—Intertect's client—but he was deeply concerned about the possibly discouraging outcome.

And that had only been the tip of the iceberg as far as what he had said and done on this case. Due to his bad reactions to the steroids, and his overuse of them, he had started experiencing frightening delusions, seeing Restin wherever he went, staring, taunting, laughing.

He covered his eyes with a hand. The delusions . . . the fight in the office. . . .

He had known he was fighting Joe, but every now and then Restin had appeared before his eyes instead, confusing him but not awakening him to the realization that he was not well. Sick and angry and upset, he had attacked Joe as all of his pent-up frustrations over Joe's often wild and uncontrollable behavior came out in a vicious, violent manner that he never would have given into in his right mind.

Joe . . . another friend—a true friend—unlike Restin.

Lew had beaten him badly, but after the drugs had worn off, he hadn't remembered. At the hospital earlier that day, he had demanded to know where the blood all over Joe's shirt had come from, why he had cracked ribs, why his hand had been damaged (thankfully not broken, as the doctor had feared, but bad enough).

Joe hadn't wanted to tell him, of course. By that point, he had realized why the fight had happened, although he hadn't understood at the time of the battle. At the hospital he had shrugged it off, trying to attribute the injuries to the fights at the docks that day and the day before.

But Lew knew better. He had seen those injuries when he had first come upon Joe at the docks that day. What he hadn't known—had never dreamed—was the truth behind them.

He groaned aloud. How could he have done all that to Joe?

When confronted point-blank on whether Lew had caused all the damage, Joe had finally admitted it. He always had been a terrible liar. He had said the hand was his own fault, as he had hit Lew and had been regretting it ever since learning what was wrong. Well, maybe so, but Lew wasn't the one who had ended up badly hurt from the fight. He barely even remembered being struck.

And Restin, for all the belief in him that Lew had still steadfastly held, had paid him back by abducting him, trying to use him as a shield, and later, trying to murder Joe.

Lew had been out of the drug's influence by then and had seen Restin for what he truly was. He had just barely arrived in time to do what had to be done.

He had shot a disloyal, false friend to protect his true blue friend. Then he had stood by, watching the last bits of Restin's miserable life slip away. Such a pathetic waste. He had held a position of trust, had been considered a loyal friend, and he had thrown it all away out of greed and desperation. So many murders had been committed by his hand. Joe could have been next, if Lew hadn't been there.

Could he have even shot Restin while under the drug's influence? Would he have even seen Joe? Maybe he would have instead thought that someone was threatening Restin and shot the supposed offender to save Restin.

He sighed. There was no point going over such nightmarish possibilities. In a way, the abduction had been a blessing. He had lost those blasted pills and his mind had cleared enough for him to find and save Joe.

"_First time in years you get in a bind and you panic!"_

He paused. Had the delusions been, to some extent, a reflection of his own inner feelings, just as some of his other feelings had been twisted and blown out of proportion during the fight with Joe? Obviously, seeing Restin had been because his "death" and the ensuing scandal about him had affected Lew so deeply. But what about the make-believe confrontation on the ship? What had that said about him?

"_You're trying to ruin me! Why?!"_

"_You take a guy like Mannix. He drinks with the boys, plays poker now and then. . . . You know, if he was running this show, he'd know what to do!"_

"_**I **built Intertect!"_

"_Ohoho! London Bridge is falling down."_

He could still hear the fake Restin's mocking giggles in his mind.

Did some part of him envy Joe's laid-back approach to life? Joe went out and had fun, but always snapped to on the job and got it done—even if his methods _were_ unorthodox. Was Lew perhaps even jealous or frustrated that someone like that was his best agent, someone who often went against the grain and didn't follow most of Lew's company rules? He had made Intertect successful by having his agents follow the rules he had set up. If all of them were like Joe, the police or the insurance companies or both at once probably would have shut Intertect down years ago.

Lew rarely took time for recreation. He stayed in his office and worked and commanded things from behind the front lines. But he also participated in the training exercises to stay fit, took cases of his own, and often found himself involved in Joe's cases. They had been in so many shoot-outs together that he had long ago lost count of the number. Which was rather alarming when he thought about it.

He _had_ built Intertect, almost single-handedly at first. His love of both detective work and technology had sparked a dream that had never been quelled and instead had only grown stronger through the years until he made it a reality. And no matter how Joe disliked the idea of relying so much on the computers, even he had found their help valuable at times. A large-scale, technologically advanced detective agency _was_ a good idea.

Perhaps he had taken a page from Joe's book when he had improvised a grappling hook and escaped from the old building via a hole in the ceiling. But he _had_ been in tight spots himself, even if not as serious as that one for some time. He had been a struggling private investigator out on his own, as Joe often said he wanted to be. It had taken many years for Intertect to build up into a national organization. Once upon a time, he had been the only agent. And he had gotten into some disturbing situations back then and found his way out. Nowadays, despite his cases not usually ending up with him being personally targeted, he had proved he was still capable of removing himself from situations as dangerous as Joe often dealt with. That had given him a sense of confidence and relief after his frustration and, yes, his panic over being assaulted and abducted.

But could he handle that sort of danger on an everyday basis? Sometimes Joe seemed to thrive on the danger and enjoy it. Other times he simply accepted it as part of the job and sometimes deliberately put himself out as a target if he thought it would help solve the case faster.

Lew wasn't sure he could ever be that daring.

Maybe part of him wished he could be.

Perhaps, if push came to shove, he would be. He didn't like to think that if someone really needed his help as they had needed Joe's, he wouldn't be willing to do absolutely everything he could for them.

Maybe, rather than not being willing to do it, it was more that he hoped to find other, less dangerous solutions and felt that Joe's way was often too extreme.

But it _did_ get things done. And despite the trouble that came to both Joe and Intertect because of it, Joe's methods were part of why he was the best agent.

That was part of why everything was so complicated and not just cut-and-dried.

Lew started at the sound of the door slowly opening. He turned, looking into the increasing slab of light from the hallway. Joe was standing there, peering into the room in concern.

"Joe . . ." Lew raised a hand to his forehead to shield himself from the sudden light. "How did you get in here?"

Joe half-smirked. "I know the security combination to your house. Remember?"

Lew remembered. It was certainly information not shared with the other Intertect agents. As a close friend as well as a trusted agent, Joe was in a special category. Lew had given him the combination on one particular case when Joe had been in trouble for the umpteenth time and Lew had thought he might need a place to lay low until the mess was solved. For one reason or another, Lew hadn't changed the combination when the confusion was cleared up.

He paused. He had to be grateful that he hadn't given Restin the combination at some time too, such as to look after Joe.

If Joe noticed the shift in Lew's thoughts, he didn't mention it. Instead he walked into the room and sank down in a chair. "You were asleep, so I thought I'd help myself to a drink and then check on you again before I left."

Lew sighed. "You should be home in bed," he scolded.

Joe shrugged. "Maybe. And you should be in the hospital."

"The doctor said the infection had cleared up enough from the steroids that I could stay home if I promised to finally take it easy," Lew said.

"Well, at least they did _something_ right," Joe remarked.

Lew looked weary and sad. "Joe, about the fight . . . about everything . . ."

"You don't need to say it, Lew." Joe clenched his good fist. "I should have known something was wrong with you. Instead, I let myself get so caught up with the case I was investigating that I wasn't even paying attention to your problems. If I'd been focusing the way I normally would, the fight wouldn't have happened at all. You'd never see me getting beat up and not try to do something to help me. I was so boiling mad when I got back to the office after that and saw you that I wasn't willing to listen to reason any more than you were capable of being reasonable right then."

Lew looked stricken. That part of it was something he still hadn't known. "What? When were you getting beat up and I wasn't helping? Aside from when I was doing the beating."

Joe stiffened, realizing he had said something he probably shouldn't have. But it was too late to turn back now; he would have to tell the rest. "It was down at the docks," he said. "You were talking to Mrs. Restin's brother while I was getting pounded. I yelled for you, but you just looked at me and left me there."

Lew stared at him. "I . . . I don't remember that," he said in chagrin. "I don't remember seeing you at all."

Joe nodded. "I know now you couldn't have. Or if you did, you weren't processing it right." He had felt so hurt, so betrayed, that little else had mattered. Even though Lew had almost always believed in Joe, that time Joe had allowed himself to think that Lew was simply so adamantly opposed to the whole idea of Restin being alive and a traitor that he would fight it any way he could, even at the cost of Joe's well-being. Now that he was thinking clearly again himself, he could hardly comprehend believing such a thing about Lew.

"When I left the office after the fight, all I wanted was to find Restin and prove to you he was alive," he confessed. "That was more important than anything else. I thought things would go back to how they were if you just _knew._ Lew, I'm sorry."

"We both have things to be sorry for," Lew said. "We should try to move on now."

"Good advice," Joe mused, "but not so easy to follow. You've been upset too."

"I know." Lew searched for his glasses on the nightstand and started to get up from the bed. "By your own admission, you've been helping yourself to a drink. Maybe I'll have one with you."

Joe smiled. "That's great with me. To old times, and new."

"To _good_ times, old and new," Lew replied.

Joe started to get up. "I like that better," he said appreciatively.

Lew smiled too. "So do I."

"Say, I didn't thank you for saving my life at the docks," Joe said, stepping aside to allow Lew to come into the hall. "How many times is that now?"

"I've lost count," Lew said wearily. "But you've saved my life a lot too. And you wouldn't have even been at the docks if you hadn't been trying to find me."

"That's something I've been meaning to ask you about," Joe said. "How did you get away?"

Lew looked a little embarrassed. "Well, it started when I heard a cat."

"You _what?_"

Lew glanced to him. "It's a long story."

"I guess."

"Actually, the cat was very helpful," Lew said. "It led me to realize there was a hole in the ceiling."

Joe nodded in approval. "So you climbed on top of some stuff and got out?"

"Not quite." Lew relaxed more as they went to the living room and he continued to explain. It was starting to feel more like old times now, just as it should.

Joe listened to the tale of the grappling hook and the climb, intrigued. "It sounds like one of my escapes."

"That thought _had_ crossed my mind," Lew said wryly. "But actually, Joe, it wasn't the first time I've been in a strange situation. And it wasn't the first time I was able to get out of it by myself."

"So when else did it happen to you?" Joe wondered, genuinely intrigued.

"Mostly a long time ago, before Intertect was out of the ten by twelve subleased office."

"Funny," Joe mused. "I know you've been out in the field for as long as Intertect has existed in some form. And you're good at it, too. But it always sounds odd to think about, considering how you love to sit back and let the computers solve things whenever possible."

Lew gave him a sidelong, grudging look. "Sometimes even I've had to use the standard methods of detecting," he said. "Anyway, Joe, you know I've never said that the computers can do everything. Naturally they can't go out and corner a criminal. Not yet, at least."

"If they could, all detectives everywhere would be out of a job," Joe said grandly.

"I doubt it," Lew replied. "There will always be some people who won't want to conform to the future and will prefer to live in the past instead."

Joe toasted Lew with his drink. "And as far as I'm concerned, that's exactly the way it should be."

Lew smiled in resignation. Joe would never change.

Of course, even if Lew wished Joe would follow the rules at least sometimes, he didn't really want Joe to change completely. Joe was what he was. Lew had thought he had accepted that long ago. What had happened to him under the influence of the steroids was now making him wonder.

"Lew?"

He started back to the present. "Hmm? What?"

Joe studied him. "Are you sure you're okay now?"

Lew sighed. After all this, he supposed he should be honest with Joe. He leaned forward, wrapping his fingers around the glass. "I don't know," he admitted. "It really bothers me that I attacked you, Joe. I knew it was you; I wasn't envisioning that I was beating up on Restin."

Joe looked down, but not before Lew caught a flicker of lingering hurt in his eyes. "I know. The things you said made it clear that you knew it was me."

"_I told you to get out!"_

"_If you had just pushed a button, you would have learned that her maiden name was Logan!"_

"_Liar! LIAR!"_

Joe looked up again, firm and determined. "But you weren't yourself, Lew. Even if some of the things you said are how you really feel to some extent, you'd never beat me up if you really knew what you were doing. That isn't who you are."

A self-depreciating smirk slid over Lew's features. "Can you be so sure, Joe? If the drug was bringing out my true feelings at all, maybe letting loose and attacking you was also part of that and I've just been repressing it." He straightened, setting the glass on the counter.

"Do you really believe that?"

Lew started in surprise. Joe's gaze was boring into his. Lew was no longer sure he believed in himself on this matter, but even after all he had done to Joe, Joe did.

Joe stood and began to pace in front of him. "Sure, I lost my way for a while. I even believed you really meant everything you said _and_ did to me. I'm going to be feeling guilty about that for a long time."

He stopped pacing and dropped to Lew's eye level, looking at him with intense determination and conviction. "You didn't mean what you did. You _couldn't._ It's not in your nature to go beating people up, even when you're frustrated or upset with them. And I'll stand by that now that I've come back to my senses. How many times have we argued? How many times have you even got upset and raised your voice? But never once did you ever lift a hand to me. Never, in twelve years!"

That finally got through. Understanding and relief and gratitude flashed through Lew's eyes. His defenses down, his shoulders slumped and his voice choked with emotion. "Thank you, Joe."

Joe smiled. "Even before the doctor told me what was wrong with you, I said that you'd flipped. At least I understood that much. To do what you did, you had to be out of your mind."

"Yes," Lew said. He looked up again. "It will take time, but maybe I'll be able to accept that eventually."

"Sure you will." Joe rested a hand on Lew's shoulder. "Nothing keeps you down for long."

Lew smiled. For all of Joe's faults, he was also a loyal friend. Many of the times he insisted on using his unorthodox methods were when he was trying to help people he cared about. And Lew was deeply humbled that Joe still considered Lew a friend after all the pain he had caused.

". . . Oh hey, Lew?"

"What is it?"

"I'm not still fired, am I?"

Lew grimaced. He had forgotten about that. One more bit of hurt he had caused.

"Of course not," he said. "But don't plan on going in to work tomorrow. Just rest."

Joe pretended to consider it. "I will if you will," he said at last.

"Fair enough," Lew said immediately. Anything to get Joe to rest after what Lew had done to him. Anyway, he had realized to his exasperation that he could not keep going without a rest himself. He certainly wished he had never tried the pills and had instead gone to the hospital, as the doctor had wanted. He surely would have been out by now, if he had. And he wouldn't have caused so much pain and sorrow for Joe and Dr. Josephus.

They both fell silent as they continued to mull over the past few days that had brought them to this point. The experience had been a definite low point for both of them. But they had come through it and their friendship would be stronger for it. Lew wasn't sure he could ever be grateful the conflict had happened, but if something good could come from it, he would somehow come to value it because of that.

Joe was starting to pour another drink. "To good times?"

Lew managed a smile. "To good times," he echoed. "And to forgiveness and understanding."

Joe paused, slightly surprised, but then smiled too. "I'll drink to that."


End file.
